TORCHWOOD  Another Time
by Hippy Chick1964
Summary: If you liked First Times, you'll love this!  How about the story of Ianto/Jack's "first time" from Jack's perspective?  Is it love or just another shag for Captain Jack Harkness?


TORCHWOOD-Another Thought

I wasn't that attracted to him initially. He was cute and could always turn a phrase, in a dry, Johnny Carson sort of way. And then, just as quickly, switch and laugh at the silliness of Graham Norton. It wasn't like how I felt toward Gwen. I wanted to show her the universe during the day and fuck her until she begged me to stop at night. Funny how the tables can turn. Now it's Ianto who I will fuck throughout the night and Gwen lays snugly against Rhys. Sadly, I couldn't wish anything better for her and she deserves it. I had tried and miserably failed at providing that idealistic life to several of my past wives, each becoming progressively more hostile than the previous one. It wasn't that I didn't love them or that I cheated with other women, or men for that matter, it was my insatiable need for adventure. It would always draw and keep me away at the worst times - anniversaries, try first steps, the Christmas pageant, the biopsy results confirming breast cancer. At some point, many women, good ones that is, want to nest - they know that what's necessary when you're raising a family. Unfortunately, I'm not the nesting type. The real smart ones figure this out early on and get out quick. Others convince me that I can be better this time only to find themselves disappointed later. It is fortunate that Gwen was one of the smart ones. I hadn't plan on giving her much of a choice anyway.

I had never planned to start a relationship with Ianto. I was pretty pissed about him hiding Lisa from us -putting the team in jeopardy - but I can't say I blame him. I'm not as cold-hearted as the team thinks. It was hard to watch Ianto moving through the Hub like an efficient zombie. This had been his first love after all. A therapist would say the real reason I was mad at Ianto was the perfect craftsmanship of his deception - he had me fooled from the very beginning. He joined Torchwood Cardiff to save Lisa, not because I chose him as I did the others. Dr. Freud always said in her slightly Austrian British accent, "Jack, you're always confusing control for freedom. You can have one and not have the other." Anna was the brilliant analyst. Unfortunately, her work has been ignored, first overshadowed by her famous father and now because psychoanalysis has become an anachronism.

It was one day while reading through those old therapy notes (Anna used to make her patients take notes. "You must become a student of your own mind, Jack Harkness," she'd say.), that my hostility to Ianto started melting into compassion. I looked up from my office desk out on the Hub's main floor and saw him making coffee. I knew brewing was something of an obsession of his but I saw it in a different light this day. He wasn't making the crew's morning java but coaching aromatic perfection into a cup. His attentiveness to the process, I realized, was the only thing that returned a smile to his face lately and I had forgotten how much I appreciated that smile. More importantly, if I was going to fully restore him to the team (and the others seemed to be waiting for me to do this), I had to bring him back myself -convince him all of us, myself included, still wanted him. I hadn't anticipated that doing so would so readily disrupt my world. What did Anna say about control and freedom?

Everything started off quite innocently. I visited him in the vaults this particular day simply to reassure him that my anger had waned and that the team missed his morning coffee rounds. But when I got there, I found myself taken aback. This was the first time I think I ever really looked at him. He was moving crates into the storage area? And oh my, did he have to look so hot with his sleeves rolled up, his tie slightly ajar, and small beads of sweat bringing a slight glow to his face I couldn't decide which would be better, licking him or fucking him.

I kept to the shadows so he didn't notice me watching him intently. I recalled how we met. Rolling around after tackling the pterodactyl, I was never sure if what overwhelmed him was my arousal or the fact that I felt his. He didn't seem the type but I have snagged life-long heterosexual men before. But, he never made mention of it again and neither did I, assuming that it was an aberration. Now though, I couldn't help but wonder if I teased him, just a little, if he would offer one of his cute schoolboy blushes.

"Hello handsome!" I announced a few moments later with my leading man grins.

"Sir?" he asked.

"What's you doing?"

"Storing the anti-venom, as you asked," he said then bent over, placing a crate back on the floor. Nice ass. "Was there something you needed?"

'Yes," I said definitively. While he busied his hands writing useless notations on a clipboard, I waited for him to finish. But he said nothing and acted as if he wouldn't stop until completely copying _War and Peace_. Finally, my patience ran out, "We need to discuss this whole Lisa thing."

If he hung his head any lower, I would have gagged on the guilt. Then he had to add, "I am sorry for what happened, for betraying the team's trust."

"And mine?" Where did _that_ come from?

"Your keeping me here has meant a great deal," he admitted, his eyes so full of sadness and resignation that I wanted to hug him but was uncertain if he would accept it. Instead of doing that, I just walked away.

Chapter Two

The night after our encounter in the vaults, I realized that although I knew the intimate details about the others, I knew nearly nothing about Ianto's life outside of Torchwood. And unlike the others, he rarely spoke of family or friendships. I started pouring again through the Torchwood London's files found very little about his personal life. He has a sister who is married with kids, both parents were dead, and graduated from university with mediocre grades. There were notations from HR about the relationship with Lisa. There was a warning about extensive fraternization and a written request from him, right before the invasion, for an exception, as his letter indicated, to get married. Memos back and forth from her and his supervisor seemed to indicate that permission was granted. Shit, I bet he had already bought the ring.

There was more information in the records about Lisa. Like Ianto, she kept a diary but hers was through her Torchwood computer, which was saved off planet and thus survived that Hub's destruction. She was an intense but adorable girl. It was through her eyes that I got to know the real Ianto. She was deeply in love with him. She called him her "gentle knight" and found his "boyish charms" the perfect match to her "Type A personality". Like how he always seemed to anticipate the Torchwood Cardiff's staff's needs, he just seemed to know when she had a bad day or was uncertain or screwed up. There he would be, waiting with her favorite dessert or just the right words in an email or a note attached to a single, lavender rose. How many times had he made Tosh her favorite tea when he knew she was missing her mum or anticipated Owen's medical supply orders, particularly when the resident doctor had gotten behind due to multiple nights of carousing sloanes at local clubs?

But it was the racy scenes that really got me. Lisa's diary offered graphic details about the couple's sex life. Both came to the relationship relative virgins and their encounters initially had the flavor of uncertainty and tentativeness. This didn't last long. Who knew that underneath those expensive, well-tailored suits was hidden such lust. "He loves to eat me out mostly in the morning before my shower or when I get back from a jog," she wrote at one point. "The smell of me seems to drive him wild and he prefers I don't wear any perfume." Yet, "he always smells like freshly brewed espresso" she continued, "especially the soft hairs around his balls". She described a firm body underneath those clothes, with a modestly large penis with "a solid, mushroom head that he likes stroked slowly at the base when I have my finger in his ass."

It was while I read that last part that Ianto came into my office. I minimized the screen like a teenage boy caught by his mother watching porn. "Your pizza, Sir."

"Thanks," I dismissed. I wanted to get back to my voyeuristic adventure. I caught his smell just as he left the room and must disagree with Lisa's description. Ianto smells like the lust of a '52 Chevy and it was making my dick stand twelve o'clock high.

Lisa's writing would get a bow from Raymond Chandler. It was gritty and explicit, passionate and precise. Reading it led to a few restless nights imagining just how hot their lovemaking must have been. A week went by since I had last met him in the basement vaults. This time I didn't hide my arrival. I found him sitting at a small desk, typing something into a laptop.

"How's it going Ianto?"

"Fine, sir," he responded. "May I assist you in finding something?"

"Tell me about Lisa." His hostile look took me aback a bit. "Don't wanna talk about her with me?"

"I tend to be rather private."

"Sometimes too private," I said irritated. Like Gwen, he is always challenging me. I started to move forward, in some _machismo_ sort of way I thought to push the matter. My challenge, however, waned when he started talking again.

"I appreciate your allowing me to remain in your service, Sir. However, I have offered all the explanation I am going to give."

Okay, like my mother often said, sometimes what don't work with vinegar will work with the sweets, "Whoay big boy!" I straddled a chair facing him, resting my arms and smiling, figuring standing above him was too intimidating. "I just want to know the story. Start with how you two met"

That did it. He started off tentatively at first but then he got that wistful tone that matched Lisa's diary entries. It was like he was reading from the damn thing! The tenderness in his tone was, well, annoying. It's the same feeling I get when I hear Gwen talk about Rhys. When you've had several lifetimes of endless lovers, you forget what it is like to be adored and are reminded that loneliness many times tastes just like jealousy. I had to get out of there before the bile in the back of my throat made me gag unattractively.

"Sounds like love to me," I said glibly. I got up to go, feeling disgusted with myself. I couldn't decide if I wanted someone to care for me again like those two cared for one another or if I just wanted to see what it would be like to make him care for me that way (and the latter thought made me feel like a cad). I shook away my issues and decided to refocus on the more important goal-bringing Ianto back to the team. So I said before alighting the stairs "Don't get lost down here. I will be needing you upstairs soon." Whatever expression he had on his face, only the back of my head saw it.

Chapter Three

Damn it! Over these last several weeks, all I can think about is him fucking that girl. You have to admit, the Cyberman outfit was rather sexy and gave a good start to my overactive imagination. In my vagaries though she didn't have the headgear and her expression was softer or hungry, depending on which fantasy I was working with. Those plump lips kissing his neck or sucking his cock were wondrous. But what really made me stand on end was how I imagined the look on his face. Would he melt into the sensations or become more aggressive? Would he moan grinding his hips against her or push his dick deeper down her throat? By the time I'd worked both scenes through my mind my cum covered most of the lower half of my stomach. But instead of feeling relieved, my frustration increased.

Seeing him around the Hub only made it worse. I found myself sending him on stupid, useless errands just to keep him away from me. I could tell he was getting annoyed and he probably thought I was still angry with him. But what was I going to do? Should I tell him, "Sorry Ianto. Ah, no. I'm no longer mad at you. I just wanna fuck your brains out just to see how you respond!" I can't see that going over very well. I'm feeling like an action hero tied to a tree.

Screw this! I'm a grown up (how old am I anyway?) and need to put this childish fascination aside and get back to leading this team. There are aliens and rift activity to manage. I've got a planet to protect and I'm not going to do it bouncing up and down on my groin. It was Friday night. The others were going for drinks. They had asked him but he begged off-talked about wanting to read some new book he'd downloaded. I usually do a patrol in the evenings since I don't need much sleep.

He was at the coffee machines, cleaning up for Monday when I came to him from behind, so to speak. "I'm going Weevil hunting. Interested?" This was a rather innocent activity we used to do, as he was an excellent tracker. "Tosh has done some upgrades to the PDAs that should make things even easier." His eyes brightened like they used to and I liked that.

While I drove the SUV, weaving through the back streets of Cardiff, he gleefully played with PDA. "Nice. Tosh has set this so police scanners register you at the speed limit even when you're not," he said. "Unfortunately, it can't do anything about your harsh turns, failures to yield, or inability to properly interpret the meaning of a red light or stop sign."

"Hey, don't I always get you guys there safe and in one piece?" I pleaded.

"Sure," he blandly countered, "and leave me with a stacks of traffic tickets to reconcile." He sighed, "Tonight alone will take three days to clear from the police computers."

Just at that moment, I sighted a Weevil doing a two-legged rat scurry around a corner into an alley. The sudden, sharp turn nearly threw Ianto into my lap even with his seatbelt secured. "Sorry," I said. "I think I just saw one."

Ianto rolled his eyes and straightened his jacket before returning to the PDA, "It went into that building, probably through the basement door."

His brief brush against my shoulder brought a whiff of his scent directly into my nostrils. Not only do my people give off a sensual, sweet odor, our nasal passages are highly sensitive to the scents on others. His was a mix of dark, Thai coffee roast, a gentleman's cologne, and lust. "Yves Saint Laurent?"

"Yes, La Nuit De L'Homme," he said nonchalantly, oblivious to my pending arousal. "I think we should pullover here and enter from the front."

"Whatever side you want." He looked at me queerly, uncertain as to my reference, of which I was glad, as I hadn't meant to be so blunt.

The rest of the evening was more focused and the hunt went well but the buggers were feisty tonight. Ianto had ordered new sedation darts, which quickly quieted them down though. Getting them into the back of the SUV was another problem. These guys must have been feasting for quite some time because they were heavy as hell. By the time we got back to the Hub and loaded them into the cells, both of us were sweating and his smells were toasting the inside of my nose again. Innocently, he took off his suit jack and my olfactory system went on overdrive. "Ah, big boy!" I teased, "Take it all off and let's see what you've got."

"You smell good, Jack but not that good," he said with just a hint of nervousness in his voice.

"Really?" I said in a husky voice even I hadn't anticipated as I walked up behind him, "I must be losing my touch then." He had just rolled up his sleeves and the hairs on his exposed arms were calling me. I had to touch them. I ever so slowly caressed each one. Eventually I reached his fingertips. "My, you're smelling rather 51st Century yourself, Ianto Jones."

"Jack!"

"Shh!" I commanded and turned him to face me. I felt like a hunter closing in on his prey. I put the tip of my pointing finger against his lips and felt it tingle down my arms. My other hand grasped his other hand tight, "Male and female humanoids give off different odors," I groaned. "It's so . . . intriguing!"

I was about to lick his neck when he pulled away slightly. I am not quite sure if he was startled or frightened. "Jack!" was all he seemed to be able to get out.

This was enough time for me to snap out of my temporary insanity. What was I doing? Mixing work with pleasure was never a good idea for me. Too many complications. Too many losses. It was another reason why I kept Gwen at a distance and prayed Rhys would marry her soon. I regained my control and gave a campy remark, "Honestly! I am being inappropriate here?"

"Some would call it sexual harassment." He furthered the gap between us and reflexively started straightening his tie.

That's when I saw it, the moist stain on his pants and the receding bulge still pushing it forward. I had got him. The lion caught his prey and with a smug look on my face, I said, "So when are you calling the lawyers?"

"Okay. You've won. I'm human." He stood there and looked at me defiantly, with a schoolteacher's tone. "I haven't had a shag in a while. Yes, I'm quite lonely but then you knew that too, eh? And you bring a whole new meaning to the word 'sexy'." He inhaled sharply before making his next declaration, holding his head up like so many British men do when facing down a formable force, "But, I'm not gay or whatever you call it on your world and I'm thinking I would like to keep it that way for now."

He was right and that thought tempered my ego. I picked up his suit jacket from the table where he had laid it and handed it to him. "Go home and enjoy your book," I said then turned around and left the room before he could notice the similar stain on my pants.

Chapter Four

I kept my distance from him for some time. I needed to get some perspective. At night, while in bed, my mind raced while my hand rubbed my dick raw. I tried going out at night but the prey was too easy and when I caught it, too unsatisfying. I thought of visiting a local planetary pleasure palace but worried the team would become upset with my absence. Then, Gwen ran into a rift shipment of weaponry. Ianto, who had been avoiding me also, used it as an excuse to hide in the basement again. With only the smell of his coffees to soothe me, what was a Jamie Oliver slow simmering roast became a Gordon Ramsey searing steak. I was hungry. What made it worse was watching him through the CTV cameras I installed where he was working. From my office, I watched him for hours doing the most mundane of tasks. I was never bored. I was boiling.

Finally, I did what I always do - take action. My steps alone along the descending stairs indicated I was on a mission. In a faint attempt at resistance when I approached him he said, "I was about to do that supply order before I go home." If his voice hadn't made it clear he was expecting me, the hungry look on his face did. It wouldn't have taken a Brosuven telepath to realize he had been waiting for this.

I didn't so much as push him as direct his body against a set of crates stacked against the wall. "Really?" I said as I pressed his wrists slightly above his head at either side then lay my body against his like a feather fallen on an open book. But he was nervous, "Exhale," I told him. He immediately obeyed, which aroused me to the point of insanity.

Initially, I licked his lips more than kissed them. Warm espresso with a hint of chocolate never tasted so delicious. Lisa was right too, he didn't kiss like most white, Earth men who tend to be all stiff lipped. His seem to plump out naturally and our lips began to dance together. Eagerly, he resisted my hold on his wrists but leaned into me. When his tongue touched mine, I had to pull away slightly for he nearly had me undone. I smiled reassuringly, I hope, moved my lips close to his ear and quietly said, "Calm down, big boy."

I let go of his wrist then pulled him closer to me and began alternating between licking and sucking his neck just behind his ears. My god! His moans and sharp grunts were unbelievably sexy. I loved being the reason for those sounds. I desperately wanted to hear what different hues and textures could come from him as I moved along his neckline. I have only known a few males who were so responsive to touch and very few of those were human. That he was an exception only made me more excited.

I employed an acupressure technique known for its erotic qualities and was rewarded with his shivering. As I added a nibble on his earlobe, I thought I heard him plea, "Jack, please, don't stop!"

Then reality swooped down like a vulture taking a starving man's last morsel. Jesus! What's wrong with me? What am I doing? I thought. I couldn't do this! I couldn't fuck this man like this. He deserved better and certainly deserved better than me. I wasn't Lisa. I couldn't promise him anything. Hell, he'd be lucky I could keep him alive. I knew I needed to stop. I had to stop. Just like Gwen - he deserved what he had with Lisa. It took a while but I slowed down and just held him a minute, long enough for guilt to run through my veins like poison from a snakebite. Finally, I pulled myself away, still holding his hand and trying to reassure him that this wasn't his fault. I felt so stupid but the best I could say was, "I'm not sure I meant all that. You can leave anytime now."

"I'm okay," he said albeit a bit smugly as if he was giving me an out. "I'd better get that order in though." He moved aside and picked up a clipboard along with his iPod.

Suddenly I was irritated. Did he just reject me? "Right, you do that." I was about to say something else but he was already gone.

Chapter Five

Who the fuck does he think he is? I'm Captain Jack Harkness. I've fucked thousands (well, maybe tens of thousands) of creatures across six galaxies. Where does some wet behind the ears, Welsh puppy get off acting like what happened last night was no big deal? Screw him!

The next night, the others were going to Hailey's, a local pub. I surprised them and joined in the fun. He, of course, bowed out, making up some excuse about having to finish fixing my driving tickets. Yeah, right! He just can't take the heat in this kitchen. I just danced out of that Hub, humming "_I'm gonna wash that man right out of my hair_"

Humans really need to work on their intoxicants. About midnight, the others begged off and I stumbled back to the Hub, in hopes of finding stronger shampoo. I hadn't anticipated Ianto would still be there but there he was at this station typing away. He didn't see me at first.

"How long have you been there?" he asked.

"Long enough," I said, stumbling slightly forward on to him.

"You're going to need help getting to bed, Sir." He looked at me incredulously, "Did you just go to the pub with the others?" He put my arm around his shoulder and dragged me up to my rooms. Damn, there was his scent again!

"I left them and came back for something stronger, "I slurred and pointed at the hypervodka on the counter across from my couch.

I found myself seated and he took off my shoes like the designated driver caring for his mate after a night of carousing. "You're going to need some water otherwise you'll regret it in the morning," he said in a mothering tone while reaching for a bottle from my desk.

But I didn't need a mother at that moment. I needed to hear those groans again. I'm not so sure but we must have exchanged some other words. Yet, the next thing I knew, I was standing and holding him demandingly from behind. His neck hairs stood ramrod against my tongue as I licked along his hairline like a Lolita on a tootsie roll pop. I maneuvered my cock between the crack of his ass and held him tightly by his pelvic bone as I massaged myself against him. I was rewarded with whimpers and whispers I could barely hear but I knew what they meant. He wanted me and I needed him badly.

Damn, there is that word again, _need_. Like the other night, my mind began to reel. I can't do this, I can't fall in love again, I kept saying to myself. I can't hurt anyone else. It just isn't fair to them. I leave. I always leave. They always leave me.

I shoved him away as abruptly as I had started this whole thing. "Ianto, go home!" I shouted.

Then came the look - a cross between shame and hurt. It flashed across his face just before the anger took over. I almost reneged. I almost apologized, told him to come back into my arms and let me make it all better. But I didn't. I couldn't because he stormed out.

I collapsed back on the couch, head in hands. Somewhere along all this, I had fallen in love with Ianto Jones. Shit.

Chapter Six

The next morning, I brushed off my "realization" as a whim of alcoholic fuzzy thinking. I convinced myself that I was just playing with him - another in a long list of teases and games. And over the next several weeks, it became a bit of a game to find him down in the vaults and tease him with kisses and caresses. At first he faintly protested, but eventually he seemed to look forward to my visits and would become visibly grumpy should I not visit and catch him alone and unguarded. I thought that maybe the relationship would settle itself out to become an occasional pleasure that didn't go very far or that he would stop me permanently or I would simply get bored and stop on my own.

I was amusingly brought to reality when he presented _The Joy of Gay Sex_ to me one evening after the others had left. He dropped the book on my desk in front of me and said, "I figured maybe you didn't know what to do."

I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. I had been propositioned many times but this had to be the most enduring. "Ianto," I replied once I could breath again, "I've been around since . . . We'll just leave that alone for now. Let's just say I've been around several blocks with many species. I think I have a clue."

"I don't" A good point, I thought.

"Ianto, do you know what you're doing?"

"I'm asking you the same question."

This was getting dangerous. I stood up and took some papers off my desk and went to put them in some file cabinet drawer, any file cabinet drawer. I turned around and began escorting him out of my office, "I can't do this to you. It's not fair. I shouldn't have started it in the first place."

He tried to say something else but I had already closed and locked my office door. I swore to myself, "I won't lay a hand on him again." And I was able to keep that promise for several months.

Who knew falling off the wagon could feel so good?

Chapter Seven

Events were moving around the team. After the problems with a reanimated Suzie, I was caught up investigating some strange rift readings with Tosh but we were able to handle those rather quickly and rather well with some intense effort. There was some conversation between he and I about "things that can be done with a stopwatch" but whatever that would have come to was distracted by a minor alien invasion at a local construction site. Afterwards, I decided to give everyone a well-deserved three days off. Most were going to see friends or relatives. Hearing them talk about visits and family dinners, reminded me of my loneliness. But I smiled and wished them all well. I didn't hear Ianto make any plans or calls but I assumed he'd do some reading at his apartment, as that seemed to be his usual off time routine.

When I returned to my desk, after moving some papers I found his _The Joy of Gay Sex _book. He must have left it after our last encounter. I smiled and started to put it on the shelf, when something stopped me. The next thing I knew I was sitting on the couch, reading the darn thing. What I thought I had safely put away, crept back on me again. I found myself again wondering how I would make love to him. The more I read, the more urgency was added to this desire.

I thought I was safe because he had left with the others when I heard his voice from down in the Hub's center room, "I'm sending things over to you, Jack." Fuck! I forgot he was finishing Owen's rift watch shift so Owen could catch an early train to London.

It dawned on me that I would be separated from him for three straight days. "Ianto! Come here, I need you," I called from my private suite.

"Sir?" he inquired, peeking his head tentatively through the glass door.

"Come in, please." I couldn't believe I was doing this. "Come sit with me for a second."

He hesitated and seemed a bit irritated. "I'm going to miss dinner with my sister."

He looked around the room, noting that I had his favorite Hayden symphony on, a bottle of scotch on the table, and was about to fill a second glass. I had done a fabulous job of unconsciously planning a seduction.

Ianto Jones sat down next to me and the room temperature rose by considerable degree. And although his mouth talks like it's uncertain, I can sense his body is very clear. He swallowed hard and said, "Jack, you were right. This is really foolish. I understand that now."

"I read the book." I downed some smooth liquid courage.

"What?"

"_The Joy of Gay Sex_." The scotch warmed the back of my throat and let me calculate my next moves with less guilt. "I could have written something much more comprehensive and provided much more enjoyable pictorials though."

Always the perfect valet, he poured me another drink and, surprisingly, poured himself one also.

"I'm sure you could write _volumes,_ "he said sarcastically while taking more than a socially acceptable gulp.

Shit! How is it that he always calls me out when I'm being clever! He's always wanting me to be honest, forthright or something - just like my first wife did. Admitting that I was being an ass always worked with her. "You're mad at me."

"Think so?"

"I know so. I've been ignoring you." Okay, THAT didn't work. He looks more sullen than before. Maybe I should tickle him. Charles always liked that when he was made at me . . . or was that Peter?

"I should go. My sister will be wondering where I am."

Damn it! Okay Jack Harkness. Think! You're running out of time. Wait! It was a long shot but worth a try. "You never called her."

The slightest pause then I knew I had him. "I should go anyway."

Thank whatever gods rule fools and rogues because I hate begging but I was willing to go there, a shocking thought, even for me. My request, "Please stay," was more of a thank you than anything else.

He poured us both another shot from the crystal decanter, "Glenlevet?"

"Longrow."

"Impressive."

"Thank you."

"So, you plan to get me drunk and have your way with me, eh?"

"Damn, am I that obvious? I'm really gonna have to work on my moves!" I took a drink to hide the truth behind that statement. "I was hoping to start with Chapter 13."

He chuckled, then realized what was in that chapter and eyed me curiously, "Am I such an advanced student to deserve to start with lessons so far into the session?"

"Ianto Jones, I have been beguiling all kinds of creatures since the day I got my year 8 science teacher to keep me after school one spring day. Our groundskeeper probably still doesn't know what those sounds were coming from inside the tool shed."

"You really have been this shameless for that long?"

"Yes," I sucked down the last of my drink and leaned back on the couch. I like to watch too, "Take off the jacket and put the cell phone on vibrate. Yes, and the tie too." He was so busy being obedient, he probably didn't hear me add, "And I'll take care of the rest."

Chapter Eight

I'm really more like Peter Pan than Robin Hood. I talk a good game and get lucky sometimes that the events fall my way or I surround myself with people who make the balls bounce the right. Either way, I'm full of a lot of bluster and swagger yet inside, I tremble when facing responsibilities. Like right now. Here I have this absolutely gorgeous man sitting next to me on this couch, waiting for me to do, to say something, yet the weight of the undertaking leaves me scattered. I look around the room with all my senses, trying to find some anchor. O.A.R's _Shattered_ is playing on the iPod.

_In a way, I need a change _

_From this burnout scene _

_Another time, another town _

_Another everything _

_But it's always back to you_

He's sitting there his white shirt opened four buttons down - my doing while I was kissing him. And the belt unhinged but pants still clasped - my doing too because I had to stop before I got too faint.

_Stumble out, in the night _

_From the pouring rain _

_Made the block, sat and thought _

_There's more I need _

_It's always back to you_

I poured myself another drink although I notice the alcohol was no longer helping. I should say something because I just can't stand that acquisitive look on his face. He's so patient. He'd wait there until I was ready to talk. How can someone so submissive be so powerful?

_But I'm good without ya _

_Yeah, I'm good without you _

_Yeah, yeah, yeah_

"You once asked me if I'd ever loved someone . . . loved someone like you loved Lisa. The answer is 'yes', more than once." I looked directly at him, "Ianto you've gotta understand I have watched all of the people I've ever loved die in one way or another. It hasn't gotten easier but I've learned to live with it. But it is all the more the reason I must protect you guys."

"We can protect ourselves."

_How many times can I break till I shatter? _

_Over the line can't define what I'm after _

_I always turn the car around _

_Give me a break let me make my own pattern _

_All that it takes is some time but I'm shattered _

_I always turn the car around_

O.A.R.'s timing couldn't been better if I had planned it, but then again I don't really plan anything and spend most of my life just making things fit where I need them to be. "You guys are great and I couldn't do this without you all but you don't know how bad it can and will get. I was left with you all as my responsibility. _All of you_."

This statement didn't go over well for the next thing I knew, Ianto jumped up and started to leave. I wasn't going to have it. "No!" I forced him back down on the couch. "We've been avoiding each other and this for months. It has to stop now."

"What do you expect, Jack? You used the pterodactyl that brought us together to try to kill the woman I loved!"

The irony of that caught us both by surprise - what was now the office pet brought us together was also symbolic of what could drive us apart. "Do you remember that day?" I asked.

"Are you kidding? I nearly kissed you then."

"Why didn't you? I wasn't in any position to really stop you." Nor to stop myself I had to admit. "It was that whim that led me to bring you to team."

His mind seemed to drift for a moment then he shook himself, took a large swig straight from the decanter. "Whoya big boy! Watch out. This stuff is lethal."

"I'm not a boy," he said before grabbing and kissing me. Gosh, give this man a 5th and he'll take 11 inches!

Chapter Nine

We made out like randy school kids in the back of dad's old car for some time before we both finally came up for air. Initially, we both smiled sheepishly at one another but his continence returned to "horny man on meth" rather quickly and he pulled me by my shirt toward his lips again. Normally, I don't mind a little rough play but I thought caution was the better part of valor in this particular situation. I pulled back, smiled at him and said, "Slow down, now." He gave me hurt expression, probably fearing that I would stop things all together again. "Seriously, you need to be schooled otherwise things can get . . . unpleasant."

I took him to my private room. He hadn't been there too often except to bring my laundry. I know those times he wanted to linger but really never did. A good valet sustains his master's privacy. But I'm certain now and then he at least took a moment to smell my sheets. And that image gets me back on track.

I began removing the rest of his clothes deliberately, like the curtain rising on a Puccini opera. No turning back, no stopping this time. Then I undressed and he started to carefully fold my clothes and put them on the chair opposite the bed. I thought at first to stop him but then didn't, as that would take him out of his element plus he would probably feel offended. I did let him get in the bed first but he didn't look at me.

I didn't like the music and pushed the skip button on the iPod. Denice Franke's _Little Bit of Poison_ came on.

_first love is the hardest_

_cut you like a knife_

_if it doesn't kill you_

_you get on with your life_

_wind and rain and stormy weather_

_love and pain just run together_

He was lying on his side away from me but uncovered, just listening to the music. I got into the bed and whispered to him, "Ianto. Ianto look at me." He made a half turn and faced the ceiling. This was a hell of time to become shy, I thought.

_second time sweet and kind_

_look out or you'll fall_

_think you'll leave her love behind_

_it ain't that way at all_

_she's on your mind night and day_

_but she's a million miles away_

I pulled him in close to me and my dick shook ever so slightly as it collided with the side of his ass. "Sex should always be slow, especially the first time."

"I'm hardly a virgin, you know," he pouted.

"So I've read," I said. He turned his head looked at me quizzically. "Just let your body tell me what you like. Let it talk."

_the way you love me leaves me weak_

_too weak to even cry_

_if you go you'll kill me_

_girl, don't even try_

_first a little then a little more_

_make me forget where I been before_

_I need a little bit of poison_

_I need a little bit of poison_

_I need a little bit of poison_

_to keep me strong_

My mouth and hands touched every inch of that man but I got the best reaction when I stroked his balls, just like Lisa's diary said. Handling them, in the slightest manner, brought a deep, guttural groan that didn't seem human. Most people would be lost in the moment but not Ianto Jones. I caught him thinking, likely deconstructing the whole thing like some Top Chef quick-fire challenge. His mind's wheels were turning so loud you'd think we were at Question Time. "Shh!" I demanded, "Stop thinking." How could anyone be thinking anything while someone with my level of expertise was holding his balls? But then I had to remember just who I was in bed with - a creature whose mind was always working. He was always thinking and that was one of the things I loved about him (ah shit, there's that word again!). If I was going to get him to relax, I had to relax his mind first. The stream of 70s disco coming across the speakers gave me an idea. "Did I ever tell you about my days at Studio 54?"

_When we go to work_

_How the day seems so long_

_The only thing I think about_

_Can't wait 'til we get home_

_'Cause we got a way of talking_

_And it's better than words_

_It's the strangest kind of relationship_

_Oh, but with us it always works_

Chapter Ten

By the time Babyface's _Whip Appeal_ came on, Ianto was so relaxed that he didn't notice I was stroking his balls again. He lay on his back, eyes closed, visualizing the stories as I told him. Mick Jagger, David Bowie, Eric Clapton and all their various groupies, men and women, "experimenting with sexuality", so they called it. From endless nights of rancorous drug filled sex parties to jam sessions with some of the greatest artists America and Britain every spawned. I offered him pictures of a world biographers and historians would give their left arm for. In years to come, I would find that this was one of his favorite things to do, listen to me tell my tales - god knows I have enough of them.

_And no one does it like me_

_And no one but you_

_Has that kind of whip appeal on me_

Acting out some silly drama scene I had him laughing. At one point, I got up to get the scotch. When I returned to the bedroom, I was still animated, explaining that it was really Jagger's idea for the doing a threesome with Bowie and some trannie girl when I caught him gawking at me. I am a fabulous specimen to adore. "Like what you see?" He nodded. "Well, Mr. Jones, Ianto Jones, it's all yours for the night and maybe, if you're lucky, part of the morning too." I took a long swig but before I could put the decanter down solidly, he grabbed me and pulled me playfully back into the bed. Like two kids, we tugged and tickled each other laughing so hard we lost our breath. Soon though, it got serious again.

_Whatever you want_

_It's alright with me_

_'Cause you've got that whip appeal_

_So work it on me_

_It's better than love_

_Sweet as can be_

_You've got that whip appeal_

_So whip it on me_

I got on top of him with our dicks kissing each other like the night with the pterodactyl and asked, "Do you wanna come, Ianto?"

"Yes, no, no not yet."

While secretly thanking Lisa, I reached below the bed. Earthlings just don't appreciate what a wonderful invention Vaseline is! I worked a dab on my middle finger then returned to the top of him and moved kisses down his body, occasionally biting so he knew who was running things. I hovered just long enough to make him wonder, then put his dick in my mouth. Every man likes his dick sucked and Ianto was no exception. Initially, he held his body very still but I figured that wouldn't last long. I moved lips and tongue dangerously slow at first to make sure he felt the difference, how a man can more easily swallow you whole without it necessarily being a dominance issue. I stopped when I felt he was too close and started stroking him with my free hand. His eyes were closed but he was murmuring something I couldn't understand.

_Keep on whippin' on me_

_Work it on me_

_Whip all your sweet sad lovin' on me_

"Count your breaths, Ianto." I think he heard me because he began to murmur again as I licked around his engorged head. Stealthily, I shifted my weight and positioned the greased middle finger close to his ass crack. "Push down, now." I don't know how he heard me but he did. The finger entered part way and I moved it the rest, leaving it there long enough for his sphincter muscle to relax. He didn't stiffen and I felt his thighs unclench slowly, so I began my rhythm over his dick, sucking slow with light strokes. After a few minutes, I moved my finger slightly in and out of his ass in opposing strokes.

Lisa was right because soon I rewarded with sounds from him that made me so hard I thought I'd burst. He put his hands around my head and moved it to the speed he wanted. I moved my finger in and out to match that rhythm. "Please Jack!" That I was making him feel this good made me so happy. When he finally came, his ass then his dick, I was thrilled, like a poor man who won the lottery.

I came up next to him again and pulled him into my arms. He was shivering slightly and probably confused. "You young men!" I gently teased, "Just so eager." I felt him smile against chest.

"Hey!" called the bartender of the nasty desert saloon, "You looking for another one?"

He didn't startle me as much as move me away from my memories. He was standing in front of me at the bar. Just past his head was some wanker on the television droning on about "free treatment programs for children still traumatized by 456's 'possession' ". "Yeah," I said before draining the last from a double shot glass. I wasn't in soft sheets wrapped up in a moment of bliss with Ianto but emotionally marooned in someone's no man's land, this time in an Australian town, doing what I had been doing for months, hiding.

The man's filthy hands slammed down what was left of a bottle of cheap vodka. I pulled out whatever bills were in my pocket. It was probably more than what was needed and definitely more than what that rot gut was worth. His one good eye spotted that I was writing, "Is that one of those iPad things?"

"Yeah," I slurred.

"Ah," he continued while cleaning a clean glass with a dirty dishtowel, "She must have been some Shelia!" I could have given him a funny look but I was too drunk to know for sure. I've been slightly or fully drunk for months. Anyone else would have been dead by now of some liver disease. But I can't ever be so lucky. Nor am I lucky enough to have this guy shut the fuck up. "Nobody sits, drinks, and types like that unless they're trying to get over some Shelia." The man shook his head in pity. Either that or I was drunker than I thought, "I bet you even have her tattooed on your arm or something."

"What?" then I understood. I rose from the lump of wood that passed as a bar stool and rolled up my right sleeve. _Ianto Jones, R.I.P. 2009_ was etched on my forearm for the 10th time. This one would fade as the others had and I'd go through it again, just because I couldn't think of anything else to do. "Yeah, _he was_. One hell of a Shelia."

If my comment wasn't enough for the gnomish man to back off, my growl certainly was. Unfortunately, he decided to share his new information with some locals on the other side of the bar who I'm certain are not regular supporters of the Triangle Foundation. It was time for me to pack up and go, again.

I saved the diary entry and put the iPad in my pouch. Taking back some of the cash I had originally laid out, I gulped down the rest of the bottle and stumbled out the bar. The arid night wind cut against my skin, making me pull up the collar of my greatcoat. I put my hands in my pockets and counted to 10, waiting for the bar patrons to come out and show me just how welcome I wasn't.

Most of them hadn't counted on a cute, young boy like me to carry a Webley, let alone to be an excellent shot. Two of them were dead before their second foot left from behind the swinging bar doors. The other two saw their dead partners and decided against further action.

I put the gun back in its holster, turned around and walked into the desert - alone again, naturally.

12


End file.
